


Moving Forward

by Ma3landra



Category: Split (2016)
Genre: Age Difference, Dissociative Identity Disorder, F/M, Goodbyes, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-22 21:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10705263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ma3landra/pseuds/Ma3landra
Summary: They need to see her, if only one more time.





	Moving Forward

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading as much Split fan fiction as I've been able to get my hands on since the end of April when I first finally sat down and watched both Unbreakable and Split for the first time. So, this is sort of a shout out to my particular favorites that also helped this story evolve into this finished piece:  
>   
> wellclutchmypearls' **Blue Skies** , annejumps' **sacrifice** , **skin** , **strike** , and **synergy** (four separate stories, btw), and bornslippy's **Summer Skeletons**.  
>   
>  So I figured Casey had made a lasting impression on the Horde and that at least a few of them would try to see her one last time, if only to say thanks for not killing them. I also don't know how fostering works, especially for seventeen-year-olds like Casey so I sort of glazed over it a bit. I hope you don't mind.  
>   
> Side note, when you read all of Hedwig's dialogue, you'll notice I wrote it with his lisp involved, so no, those are not spelling mistakes but purposeful.  
>   
> Last thing, for any RVB nerds, either don't hate/kill me, or please tell me you love me if you catch it…?

* * *

  


Staring at their body in the mirror, Dennis took the light and examined the superficial wounds left behind from the buckshot his beautiful, tenacious, pure Casey Cooke had gifted him with. The wound on his arm was worse and it still wasn’t terrible. “It didn’t go through,” he murmured aloud for all twenty-three, well twenty-two, of the rest of them to hear. Since the Beast’s emergence, all of them – except for Kevin, they had forced their poor, suicidal host, back to sleep once more – had been trying even harder to remain awake and trying to take in and catch up and keep up on everything.  
  
With a satisfied smirk, Patricia scooted Dennis off the main chair and added, “We are what we believe we are.” Seeing Hedwig bouncing on his toes, with an excited gap-toothed grin, she allowed him the light next. Although, technically, that was a lie since the boy _still_ had the most control over who got the light. Something Barry was none too pleased over.  
  
Examining the rapidly healing cuts, Hedwig lisped, “Ha, holy shit. This ith tho cool!” He laughed. Then added, referring to the millions of unbelievers that personalities of Dissociate Identity Disorder were just figments of the imagination, “They’re gonna believe we did this, right?”  
  
Dennis took center-stage once more. “They’re gonna have to.”  
  
“Tho what do we do now?”  
  
Patricia answered, referring to the Beast, “We trust in him. He’ll protect us. Look at what he can do. Let him show the world just how powerful we can be.”  
  
“What about Cathey?” the child slurred her name despite his best effort not to.  
  
Patricia’s voice was cold and clipped as she demanded, “What about her? She is pure so we let her live so she can be a part of the new world we will create.”  
  
This did not please Hedwig. “But, we kithed her! She might be pregnant and etcetera!” Several of the other alters either snorted in laughter, sighed, pinched their brow in consternation, or a combination of two or all reactions. “What? Mother thaid kithing girls on the mouth leads to pregnancy!”  
  
That had all the alters pausing, remembering another previous purpose for Hedwig, not only for the innocence Kevin had lost but for… The memories of the moments that should never have happened— _for Christ’ sake he had only been nine!_ —Dennis felt the shame most of all. He should have protected Hedwig better from Mother’s using him to replace Kevin’s absentee father just so. Only, back then, his focus had been more on protecting Kevin and making sure everything was perfectly clean, tidy, and just so to avoid the biting of the hangar’s edges on his back or within the confines of his mouth. Or endure it. Not that any of it really helped.  
  
“Hedwig,” Barry’s normally strong, confident voice was hesitant and fragile like glass, placating to be heard and not shut out any further, “I’m pretty sure Casey isn’t pregnant. We’d have known by now.” That did not dissuade the boy. “I’m sure a few of us agree but would it make you feel better if we went to see her?”  
  


* * *

  
It had taken the twenty-three of them much deliberation over the next week and a half before it was decided the Horde would at least just go and check up on one Casey Cooke from afar to see what had become of her. Their First Pure One. If she had returned to the environment that had given her those scars or if she had gathered the strength he had witnessed within his home beneath the zoo and gotten herself out and into a better, safer situation.  
  
Having gained entrance to the building across from her school, the Horde had made their way to the roof and crossed the barren landscape to the perfect spot where they would be able to see her once she departed the building. Not knowing how long she would remain inside the school, they decided to make themselves comfortable.  
  
Laying down his faithful yellow cloth upon the thick, waist-high concrete edge lining the top of the building, Dennis carefully sat himself down upon it, crossing his booted feet and making sure nothing but his clothes touched the dirty concrete ledge. He rolled the sleeves of his black and white checkered button-up halfway up his biceps as the Spring breeze caressed him gently. The graze wounds from the buckshot he had sustained on his left arm were still wrapped heavily to avoid infection.  
  
Having been able to only get a couple of changes of clothes and a few other necessary items from his home before the police invaded his sanctuary, the Horde had taken to hiding out in abandoned buildings and scraping by just to survive and to avoid capture. However, it was already grating on all of their nerves, especially Dennis’s and his need for a rigid schedule and absolute tidiness. But for the sake of their continued survival and freedom, he allowed Patricia and Barry – although Dennis bled through to keep the flamboyant alter in line – forward more of the time to avoid a full blown panic attack. Or two.  
  
Patricia, as it were, was coming up with a plan and had formed a tentative alliance with a few of the alters that had changed sides on how to go about to prepare for their next Purity Ceremony, as she was entitling it. A few of the alters were still not on board with the idea of consuming the unpure.  
  
Jade and Ian had been two of the most vocal against the eating of human flesh until the Beast forced them into line.  
  
Coming back to reality, the end of school bell rang and within minutes, several teenagers came pouring out of the red and white brick building. Some ran towards the school bus, others loitered in the clean courtyard, while others still fled from the school and down the streets. Happy chatter and laughter drifted up towards him. With a disgusted snort, the OCD-plagued protector muttered, “Look at all those unbroken souls.”  
  
Patricia sidled into the light, agreeing, “Such a waste.”  
  
“Guyth,” Hedwig cut in, his lisp more prominent today. “That’s not why we’re here! Keep an eye out for Cathey! Do you thee her yet? And etcetera?”  
  
Patricia rolled her eyes. “My dear, silly little boy,” she muttered, minding her words to keep in Hedwig’s good graces, “we’re only allowing you to see her today because you and Dennis had – and now Barry seems to have – developed a soft spot for the little chit.”  
  
Dennis added quietly, “I wouldn’t mind seeing—”  
  
He broke off as his eyes found the object of his desires limping slowly and by herself from the entrance of the school, a semi-full black backpack resting off her shoulders. She glanced around at the other students as if looking for someone, or looking out for someone. Learned survivor behavior was difficult to break. Squinting, he could make out that she was once again wearing multiple layers, if he wasn’t mistaken. A new black hoodie was drawn up over her dark hair to replace the one she had soiled in his presence. He wondered if she had gotten around to replacing that translucent white shirt that had tantalized him because he wouldn’t mind seeing it on her again. Or taking it off her the right way this time. He swallowed tightly and hoped Patricia did not pick up on his train of thought.  
  
The female alter in question scowled at him but rolled her eyes, muttering, “Men,” beneath her breath.  
  
“I’m trying to be good,” he muttered, cheeks staining pink slightly, despite his constant debauched desires always sloshing just beneath the surface. Kevin had not known how to deal with his hormones as they developed and had shoved them all onto Dennis. Now, the protector with the proclivity for watching young women dance naked had double the amount of any normal human male and had to struggle that much harder to control his urges.  
  
“There, you’ve seen her,” Patricia sniffed, watching as the girl started to make her way to the end of the street where a dark sedan pulled up. Without hesitation, she got into the passenger’s seat. It was too nice, too new to be her uncle’s; he had done a bit of research on his pure one once he let her go. If he had to guess it belonged to her social worker or her new foster parent. He was guessing the latter. The vehicle idled for a moment longer and then slowly took off down the street.  
  
Hedwig was quiet for a second. “Leths follow her.” And with that, he released a giggle and allowed the Beast out to be able to track her movements as was one of his specialties.  
  
  
  
The Beast managed to run and jump over several building roofs and follow the sedan to the same neighborhood where Dr. Karen Fletcher had held her practice, when she had still been alive. It was almost amusing. The sedan found a spot rather easily and out popped Casey, drawing her backpack once more upon her shoulders. From the driver’s side came a statuesque woman. Her smart business pantsuit was white in color over a dark purple blouse. Coming to a stop above them and peering through the sparse trees lining the street, he caught some of the older woman’s words as they floated up to them.  
  
“I have… tonight… on your own… make for dinner?” Whatever Casey replied, the woman let out a laugh, replying, “…teach you how…. Got…key?”  
  
Casey held up a small jangle of something metal and watched the woman get back into her vehicle and drive off before turning back to the building the Beast was resting on. She allowed herself inside and slowly made her way up to the top floor, to her new apartment with one Dr. Emily Grey, taking off two layers and leaving her in a short sleeve gray tee under a lightweight white and black checkered flannel.  
  
The feeling of being followed made Casey walk around every inch of her new home, for at least the next two and a half months until graduation, although, she might be made to stay longer since she wouldn’t be eighteen until August. The front door was locked, the windows closed. No one was in Dr. Grey’s apartment but her. And Caboose. The eternally happy Russian-Blue meowed happily from his spot on the couch and proceeded to play with his own tail like a kitten. Casey had half been expecting Felix, a previous foster kid of Dr. Grey's who still came around from time to time, to be hiding out somewhere in here. He had done it before, just to scare her. He had learned not to do that since the scar of his jaw had healed up nicely.  
  
She went to her room to start her homework.  
  
  
  
It was growing dark when Casey heard someone walking around in the apartment. A human someone, not the idiot cat. Frowning, she got up from her desk where she was attempting to write out her current math problem and went to investigate, calling out, “Dr. Grey?” All sounds of movement stopped and her heart began to race. Had someone broken into the apartment? Was it a burglar? Or worse, could it have been the Beast to decide she really was impure and decided it was high time she died? Her throat constricted slightly but she gathered her courage like a cloak. Stepping carefully and quietly into the kitchen, her hand found purchase on the hilt of the butcher’s knife in the knife block and she felt just a little bit safer. “Emily?” she called again.  
  
The cat poked his head up and out of a card board box and made a quiet meow, dropping his spotted dog named Freckles. “You’re no help, you idiot,” Casey hissed. The cat purred anyway and she rolled her eyes.  
  
Hearing a noise behind her, more towards her bedroom, Casey passed through the door and froze, seeing a single white lily resting upon her neatly made bed. Movement in the corner of her gaze made her turn around and her eyes widened, jaw dropping. The hulking silhouette jumped forward, whispering, “Shhh, it’s just me, Cathey!”  
  
The girl’s heart slowed from its furious pounding, hearing that familiar lisp. Perhaps she had been ultimately wrong, but not too far off. He lowered his hand from covering her mouth. “Hedwig?”  
  
“Duh. Oh hey, we match,” he grinned at her, pointing between their shirts. “Awethome!” Suddenly his thick arms were around her and holding her to his chest, taking her by surprise by the affectionate gesture and the feeling of warmth and safety that followed. She brought her arms up and gently placed them on the muscles of his back and sighed, breathing in the icy, clean smell of Dennis’s cologne. Finally Hedwig pulled back from her. “Mith me?”  
  
Casey couldn’t help but smile at him, glad the boy was no longer angry at her for her tricking him. “I missed you a little bit,” she admitted. He beamed brightly. Then asked the dreaded question.  
  
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Her face drained of color and she gaped at him like a fish before stuttering out a definite ‘no’. “Yeah, Barry thaid it was unlikely you were pregnant. Just figured I’d ask and etcetera.” He suddenly cocked his head, eyes glazing slightly. “Barry wants to talk to you. Bye!”  
  
The man’s body shuddered visibly and he shook his head, as if shaking away the cobwebs. She stepped back, hugging herself as she watched him warily. He glanced up and a genuine, bright smile lit upon his face and the nervousness faded a bit. “Casey Cooke,” he murmured his voice a honeyed tenor compared to Dennis’s brassy baritone and Hedwig’s lilting soprano, “we officially meet at last, and in much better circumstances. If you don’t remember, my name is Barry.” Glancing down at himself, he scowled, tsking, “God, what am I wearing?” He scoffed and shook his closely shaved head. “Never mind. I want to officially apologize for what happened to you.”  
  
Casey stared at him for a moment, searching for the truth in his light blue eyes as she waited for the distrust of most adults to formulate within her. It never did and she could see the genuine feeling in that light and hopeful gaze. Finally, she nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. His smile got even wider and suddenly she found herself in another embrace. His lips brushed over her forehead and he let her go before she could decide on how to react.  
  
Barry’s eyes and smile softened as he stared at her. “You might just be our true salvation,” he muttered to himself. Seeing her frown of confusion, he waved it away. “Never mind me, honey.” He sighed deeply and cocked his head, eyes glazing slightly before he blinked back to awareness. “Now, Dennis would like to make his own apology to you. Do you want… would you _like_ to speak with him, because if you don’t that’s still fine. I – we all – know what the Beast did to you but you’re about as likely to get an apology out of him, as you are getting Mother Superior to wear this Spring’s line of fashion.” A snort bubbled up and out of her before she could stop herself and Barry looked almost gleeful at her response.  
  
Then Casey sobered and thought about it. Did she want to speak with him – with Dennis? He apparently wanted to apologize. Part of her demanded that he better grovel at her feet. Another wanted to run away. He had drugged her, kept her captive, and slowly – if inadvertently – stripped her until her scars had been bared. He, however, had never threatened her like Patricia, or actually taken a bite out of her like the Beast had. Even Hedwig had tried to take a bat to her but… it was Hedwig.  
  
Casey nodded. “I would like to speak with Dennis,” she muttered. Barry nodded and then took a step back, shaking for a moment. When he blinked, his face was set into the familiar hard lines she knew best. He reached into his shirt pocket and drew out the glasses, sliding them up his nose to be able to see her better.  
  
“Miss Cooke,” he greeted her, regarding her carefully.  
  
Casey almost snorted at the formality despite their past but held herself in check. “Mr. Dennis,” she replied evenly, her arms still crossed over her chest protectively. His blue eyes dropped over her form and she felt heat rise in her cheeks at the appreciation she saw there. Then his eyes narrowed upon her scars peeking out from beneath the hem of her gray shirt. She tried not to flinch when he reached out a hand toward them. If he noticed, he didn’t let it deter him and his callused fingers gently traced the marred flesh. He glanced up and she could see the question in his eyes under his furrowed brow. “My uncle. He’s in prison now.” She swallowed and added, “I was never strong enough… to outright tell anyone. I tried but… he… no one believed me anyway. And they always took me back to him if I ran away.” She shook her head, dark hair cascading in ripples over her shoulders and back. “You… what you did… it… gave me the strength. It… gave me a chance.”  
  
Dennis frowned, retracting his hand from the bit of her skin. “I still… _we_ still… **shouldn’t** have done that to you.”  
  
The girl shook her head. “No,” she agreed, “but you can’t change time no matter how you want to.” Then a ghost of a smile lifted her lips. “Despite all the bad, I wouldn’t change it,” she admitted, meeting his eyes. “I’m stronger now than I would have been… after everything.”  
  
Dennis stared at her for a long moment and then slowly, his shoulders relaxed and the corner of his touch twitched up slightly. His eyes flicked down to her lips and she could see the sudden indecision there, the budding want and frustration. She swallowed and a part of her wondered what it would be like to kiss someone voluntarily, to actually want to participate in something intimate. It was a foreign concept to her, made alien due to what her uncle had put her through until she had begun to develop during puberty and his interest had dwindled. They met eyes and she gave the barest of nods.  
  
His mouth was warm upon her own. His lips softer than she had expected. He tasted like mint toothpaste and something else spicy that blended together well. His arms were warm bands of steel about her ribs, holding her tightly to his muscled body. The prickle of his closely cut scalp tickled the palms of her hand. They were not in love but that was okay. Even though this was something new, this was also a tying up of a loose ending. She could feel in in the desperation of his kiss.  
  
As his tongue invaded her mouth, Casey absently wondered if he knew she was still seventeen, or if he even cared. Then her mind drifted to wondering if he had ever thought about _this_ with _her_ while she was his captive or if his mind had been on Marcia to dance for him or seeing Claire in her white, lacy bra. His grip tightened on her and she realized it didn’t matter. He was with her now and this was his goodbye to her. She could feel in in the marrow of her bones.  
  
Finally, the two of them parted both breathing a little heavily and their lips a little bruised. Regret shown heavily in his blue gaze behind his glasses as he takes her in, whether it be for the kiss or for something else, she didn’t know.  
  
“This is goodbye, Casey,” Dennis frowned, gaining his breath back and glancing away from her and out onto the darkened view out her window. He sighed and turned back to her, reaching out and cupping the back of her neck only to press their foreheads together gently. She could still smell his breath as it puffed warmly over her nose and the apples of her cheeks, like fresh mint and that unnamed spice. He moved then, brushing his lips over her forehead, just like Barry had done, his grip tightening ever so slightly, but not in a painful way.  
  
She doesn’t remember closing her eyes, but when she opens them, he’s gone. The only evidence that he might actually have been there is the single white lily on her bed and the pulsing of her lips. And somehow, she feels bereft for it. Then she shakes her head. It’s time for her to be moving on. He gave her a chance to be strong and take control of her life for once and she will not waste it. Whether she would see him again or not, well, that would be a different story altogether.  


**Author's Note:**

> So, how did I do on my first Split fic? Please let know by either kudos or comments or both, please and thank you.  
>   
> Also, did you guess the references? I was trying to be semi-subtle.


End file.
